Encounter
by coffeevixen84
Summary: JH futurishAUish fic...please read and review
1. Can You Taste It?

Encounter Chapter 1: Can you taste it?

Author's Note: New story I'm trying out, let me know what you think please. I really like this beginning so I hope you enjoy….

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

His body was mere centimeters away and the heat of him made her cheeks flush. The harsh muscles of his bare chest tightened when he breathed, and he leaned in close, hands against the wall at her sides, and he sniffed at her hotly. His light blue eyes were black in the darkness, his jaw line intense as it dangled slightly open in anticipation, and the mix of beer and smoke on his breath was sweet and manly and dangerous.

"I still wanted you. Can't stop. No matter how pissed at you I got, no matter how much sex Sam gave me, no matter whatever else I did to occupy my time while you were gone, I always _wanted_ you…" the husky hush of his voice made her shiver, and he leaned in farther to growl near her ear, "…and I _hate_ that about you."

And she could feel that he meant it.

She gulped, swallowed hard, as she mustered up some fire, and then let it light in her eyes. She wouldn't be seduced that easily and she could play right back if she wanted.

"Well, just add it to the list. If I remember correctly you hate a lot of things about me, Steven. I'm sorry that I can't help it if I'm hotter than your whore or that I always knew exactly what you needed. But people want a lot of things they don't have, that they can't have so you will just have to get over it." She didn't break his stare and she left her eyes open wide. She hoped he could see right through her, it would only make him want her more and she wanted him to suffer.

He smirked at her, angrily yet amused, "Oh I can't have you, is that what you're trying to say? Brave front, baby, but you aren't fooling anyone." He played dangerously close to her as he chuckled in his throat, he licked his lips as he glanced down to hers then leaned in to blow hot air to the crook of her neck and smile as she shuddered. "I can make you feel things no one else can, always have and if you're lucky, I always will."

"Feel what exactly? Fiery hatred? Loathing? Disgust?" She countered, ignoring the way that her hair was raised up on her arms and the back of her neck, ignoring the fact she was aching for him to lean in a little closer. They were playing with fire and she wanted him to be burning.

He smiled patronizingly. "Hatred, yes perhaps that's part of it. But really, it's all passion, baby. I can make you hot and cold at the same time and sometimes you think you'll bleed if I don't touch you." He bent his knee forward to, slightly, purposefully, brush her leg as she was braced against the wall. She cringed at this first real contact, but she also couldn't hide the slight whimper that escaped her parted lips. That made his eyes flicker with slight satisfaction. So he whispered, "Just admit it, Jackie. You've _always_ wanted me too."

She began to notice as her heavy breathing became more and more ragged, as he stared into her deeper and deeper.

"No, I haven't."

"Liar."

"I have someone I care about deeply." She was surprised when he laughed loudly.

"That may be, that may be. But even in my most jealous times, when I could have killed Kelso with my bare hands for being near enough to touch you, I knew when I kissed you, when I held you, no one was in your mind but me. You may care about him, but I'm still there, inside your head, when his body is pressed against yours. When you want to feel good, baby, you'll always wish it was me."

He pulled back a little, proud of himself, his smile smug that she couldn't dare deny it. And while he was relishing his assumed victory she could move freely enough to slap him hard across the face.

He looked stunned for a moment, eyes narrowing at her, his cheek reddened from her force. But he didn't dare move his hand up to stifle the sting, and he moved his body in to trap her so much against the wall she could not flinch without shifting to touch him.

"You wouldn't be mad if I was wrong, doll. You strike back because it's true."

Her voice was shaking and her anger was building, "Why would I want a drunken dirty burnout like you? I wouldn't, I couldn't. So I'll thank you to shut your mouth."

His eyes smiled evilly as he clamped his lips shut tight a moment, before bringing them down hard against hers, pressing against her lips until they opened to let out a gasp and he took the opportunity to open his once again and force his wantful tongue into her mouth. She struggled at first which only allowed him to hold her tight, to bring her chest against his, to hold himself against the length of her as he kissed her until her mind saw nothing but red. Unconsciously, she moaned, back deep in her throat, and that made him smile against her lips and he let her arms up enough to cling around his neck and he pulled her legs up to wrap around his waist and he made love to her mouth like they'd both been wanting.


	2. Can You Feel The Beat?

Encounter Chapter 2: Can you feel the beat?

Author's Note: Thanks a bunch to those of you who have read and reviewed, I adore you more than I can express…I hope you enjoy this!

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

The kiss seemed to go on forever. A chilling sensation spread through her body and then as he pressed deeper into her mouth, the sparks began to erupt up her arms, in the pit of her stomach, in her chest. Her heart was racing as he kissed her like he always had, like his life depended on it, like he _needed_ her lips against his own. Whether out of lust, or love, or even anger, his kisses were always urgent, like he had no choice.

His right arm fell from the wall to find its way to her waist, snaking around her tiny frame to draw her in closer to him. She sighed a little, dizzy with the kissing, falling into the thick goodness of the feeling, and it made him moan to hear her voice so breathless. His hand found the hem of her shirt and pushed it away to touch the smooth skin of her back, she felt electricity burning her from each of his strong finger tips.

And then her mind woke up with a snap. And she realized who she was kissing, how she was kissing, why she was kissing. And the familiar anger that only Steven Hyde could ignite in her began to burn, burn, burn hotter than the kisses.

She pushed his hand back down. She shut the pleasuring sparks off. And as he noticed her tensing up, and pulled away in question, he caught that her eyes had a fire-blue glare set to them.

"This won't happen again." Her voice was thin and sharp and it made him shiver in contrast to the heat radiating off his skin everywhere they'd been touching. And it made him crazed-mad.

And it might have been the liquor mingling with his blood stream and it may have been the fact that he hated being told how things were going to be, but for someone reason the only thing Steven Hyde could say to that was an angry, "BullShit."

And she let out a high pitched squeal of surprise as his lips crashed upon hers again, and then he was picking her up and carrying her into his room.

* * *

_Flashback, 3 weeks prior_

_Jackie is seated at the Forman's kitchen table as Fez stands at the counter beside Kitty, stealing tastes of the thick, chocolate brownie mix she's making. Jackie's eyes are hollow, staring at nothing in particular, looking as if she could fade away…_

"_So, Jackie honey, how long will you be gone for?"_

_Snapping to attention at the sound of her name, Jackie looks wearily at Mrs. Forman as she answers, "Just a few weeks. My mom can't offer me anything more permanent, but a few weeks away is better than nothing."_

_Fez's face turns into his classic pout, "I still do not see why you cannot just stay with me and let me help you get your mind off of things. Your mother is a boozing whore, Fez can love you better." _

_Jackie gave a sad smile to her friend, "I know you can Fezzy and I really am sorry, but I just need to breathe and I can't do that here, not with Steven around all the time. I thought I could, but I was just fooling myself. I'm not strong enough to stand the looks, the insults. I need this."_

"_We understand, dear. And we're very sorry. This isn't how things are supposed to be. And Steven will figure that out, sooner or later." Mrs. Forman smiled slightly, trying to comfort the broken looking girl in front of her. _

"_Knowing Steven, later. Way later. Probably too late later." Jackie sighed heavily. Things used to be much simpler. Or at least, things used to hurt a lot less. She pushed her hands against the table to stand and giving sad smiles, she hugged Fez and Mrs. Forman goodbye and headed out of the sliding door. _

_

* * *

_

Barging into his room off of the basement he placed Jackie on the bed, roughly enough so she knew he was angry, gently enough so as not to hurt her. Oh the layers that existed in every touch they shared. He went back and shut the door, locking it loudly, and turned to face her not sure himself what he was planning to do next.

He was fuming. Jackie could tell. The signs were all there, the dramatic heaving of his shoulders due to his sharp intakes of breath, his fists clenching tightly at his sides, loosening a bit only to tighten again. His eyes were wildly darker than the usual crystal blue and if she wasn't so angry herself she would have been smart enough to be scared.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Steven Hyde! You've been a lot of things before, a drunk, a burnout, a thief, a liar. Don't tell me now that you plan on adding assault to your list of sins. Or maybe you've been mingling with the low so long now you've lost all sight of how decent people handle things."

He laughed at her, out loud and spitefully. "Jackie, you may have been raised in a big house with plenty of nice things. But your father's in prison and your mother is a slut. **_You _**don't know any more about the dealings of decent people than a whore off the street."

She stumbled back for a moment, truly shocked at his cruelty. And as her own anger subsided, just for a moment, she wondered just what had driven him to this point. Where he not only chose, but enjoyed, hurting her deeply. But the wonder faded, the rage regained its strength, and she stood up off the bed and looked him in the eyes.

"If I'm no better than a whore, it is because you made me that way. You're dirt, Steven. You drag down. With your nurses and your strippers and your refusal to want anything good or real out of life. You pulled me down to your level. And I was stupid enough to let you. But not anymore. I would have been wasted on you. Enjoy Samantha, Steven. You deserve each other. "

And with one extended damning stare into the angry eyes of the man she loved, Jackie walked back into the basement. Leaving before she could see the start of his tears.


	3. Can You See Me?

Encounter Chapter 3: Can You See Me?

Author's Note: Thanks for all the encouragement…it's appreciated and I love that people are reading and enjoying this. Please review and let me know what you think…

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

_Flashback, 3 weeks prior_

_Hyde's pacing back and forth in the Forman's living room, oblivious to the fact that each time he passes in front ofthe couch Kitty and Fez are forced to pull their legs up to clear his path. His trademark glasses are hooked on the front of his t-shirt and his rarely seen eyes are scorching everything that dares to cross his gaze. _

"_What do you mean she's gone? What do you mean you don't know when she is coming back? People shouldn't just leave without saying goodbye, without having a plan. Of all the selfish and thoughtless, irresponsible shit she's ever pulled, this, oh this…" He barked loudly, as he ignored Kitty's attempts to answer the questions he'd posed. _

_Finally, Fez stands, a roadblock with his arms crossed authoritatively in front of his chest. "Hyde, you need to calm down. You need to realize that Jackie is a delicate flower. You need to realize that it's your fault my precious girl has ran away to the Caribbean, you and your stupid whore-wife." _

_Under different circumstance Hyde might have felt the slightest twinge of pride at his foreign's friends assertiveness, but in this case he was already pissed and Fez's pointing out of his failures only fueled a dangerous fire._

"_Shut up, Fez." He practically snarled as he frogged his friend, perhaps too hard, on the arm. Recoiling on the couch beside her, Kitty took the opportunity to speak up. _

"_Steven, I know you're upset. But I'm not so sure I know why. It's not like you've been terribly nice to Jackie, or even civil to her, since you came home from Vegas."_

"_I know that," Hyde snapped at Mrs. Forman, and then instantly softened. "I'm sorry. I know I have been an ass, okay, but that doesn't mean what I say, or that I didn't, that I don't w-…" his voice tapered off and Kitty realized for the first time how lost he'd been for the last few months. She put her arm around him in a maternal squeeze._

"_It'll be okay, dear. She'll be back before you know it. And then you can tell her that you don't mean to act like the ass-word." Hyde nodded, slowly. He looked to his friend still seated on the couch, pouting. _

"_Fez, you want to go see a movie? My treat…"_

"_Will there be candy?" _

"_Are you often creepy and perverted?" _

"_Oh my, that is a resounding yes! Yay for candy!" Fez's face brightened as he clapped his hands together excitedly, and Hyde, happy to have at least mended one friendship, led the way to the El Camino._

_

* * *

_

_Flashback, Yesterday_

_Hyde stepped through the sliding door of the Forman kitchen to find it surprisingly vacant for a weekend afternoon. Stopping by the fridge to get a beer, he heard the distinctive laugh of Kitty and the sound of several other voices talking at once in the front room. Taking a sip as he pushed through the swinging door to the living room, Hyde stopped when he saw it full. Red was seated comfortably in his green armchair. Kitty stood to the side of him, smiling nervously. Fez, Donna, and Randy were staggered around the living room with equally apprehensive expressions. And seated on the couch was Jackie, looking more tan and beautiful than ever, with the arm of a smug looking stranger draped around her shoulder. Calling up every bit of his zen, he took another casual sip and a few steps closer before asking, "How was your trip?"_

_Several pairs of eyes looked in fear from Hyde to Jackie and back again. Red of course sat with a grin on his face, he'd always enjoyed seeing an ass get kicked. _

_Standing now, the stranger rising with her, Jackie plastered on her fakest smile. "It was good. The Islands are beautiful. It was exactly what I needed." She paused topush a silky strand of hair behind her shoulder."Steven, this," she indicated the man at her side, "is Jacob." Hyde looked at him and gave a noncommittal nod, and as he raised his beer can to his lips another time he heard her add, "My fiancée." _

_Without hesitation he gulped the rest of his beer down, crushed the can in his grip, then laid it down hard on the coffee table. He stood in front of her, his eyes set stern, their look heavy. She stared right back, without flinching. _

"_Congratulations." He spat the world out at her with disdainful mocking. Her look did not change, but she didn't say a word. It was Jacob who said a thank you as he extended his hand to Hyde, only to be completely ignored as his fiancée continue to stare down her ex-lover. The tension was filling up the room, everyone felt so tight, like it could pop and explode at any moment. Finally pulling his eyes away from Jackie's, Hyde gave a glare to a confused and oblivious Jacob, before shoving passed him and out the front door, letting it slam loudly behind him. _

_

* * *

_

Hyde sat on his cot, the few tears he'd let slip out long since brushed away. His fists had been clenched so tightfor so long that he couldn't really feel them, and his head was throbbing from rage. He'd been fiery mad for over 24 hours now; without sleep and with more alcohol than any one man should consume. He'd felt the rapid ups and downs that came along with proximity to Jackie and his chest ached from the stress of it all.

He was angry. And though he was tired of being angry, he honestly saw no end to it in sight. Jackie Burkhart could get under his skin, she could claw at every part of him. She had set him on fire and now she'd have to find a way to put it out. Or soonthings would get very, very interesting.


	4. Can You Be All I Need?

Encounter: Chapter 4

Can You Be All I Need?

Author's Note: Hey, so very sorry for the lengthy break from writing. Graduation required a lot more time and effort than I expected. And now the pain of finding a job in the real world has me booked. But here is chapter 4, and my other stories should be updated soon too. And I'll try my very best to update much quicker next time. As always, I love feedback, good or bad, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this.

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Jackie woke with alarm at the loud clap of thunder, just in time to see the white flash of lightening streak across her dark walls. She sat up and looked down at the bare shoulder of Jacob rising and falling with his breath, slow and steady, sound asleep. Carefully untangling herself from the sheets, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed quietly out of her bedroom and headed for the kitchen.

The cool tiles of the kitchen floor felt good against her bare feet. Her body temperature had been a bit higher than normal since her run in with Steven. When she left his room early she was sure she could have breathed fire her insides were so hot with anger. How dare he talk to her like that? Who did he think he was?

She'd taken a lot from him in the months since the Chicago "incident." She'd allowed herself to be hurt by the harsh, frequent jabs he threw her way with little complaint or defense. Perhaps it was because she missed him so badly, and insults were better than silence. Perhaps she let him berate her because she felt a bit of guilt for the way things had played out. But tonight, she had felt herself draw a line. He'd taken it to a new level, rather than just shallow name calling and accusation he'd used his touch and his kisses and what they had shared and felt to make her hurt, and that would not be tolerated. Sure, he'd been drunk. Very drunk in fact. But she'd seen him drunk a thousand times and he'd never before been so mean, so malicious. And more importantly he'd never before seemed to enjoy her misery so much.

Well, her pain would not be his sport. And if he kept this up, she still knew him better than anyone. She'd make sure he suffered right along side her.

Sipping at her ice water she moved to the window and stared out at the storm. Usually lightening frightened her, but tonight she could not pull her eyes away.

The way each flicker was sharp and sudden, dangerous and beautiful drew her in. And she watched silently for over an hour before laying herself back down to sleep again.

* * *

Hyde sank grumpily into his chair at the breakfast table. His jaw was sore from being set so firmly, and he had tiny half-moon nail marks in his palm from his hands being fisted so forcefully. He hadn't slept at all. He'd just sat fuming on his cot for hours, and then finally moved to the El Camino to watch the storm. He could still smell the thick layers of alcohol on himself, but he didn't care. Maybe it would be a sign for others to leave him alone.

"Good morning, Steven." Kitty's voice was chirper as always, and though Hyde loved the woman who fed and clothed him like a mother, he could notfight the scowl that served as his reply. "Oh, someone is just a Mr. grouchy-pants today. Here, have some nice eggs and bacon. That'll make you feel better." She laid the plate down in front of him and kissed him quickly on the cheek, then went back to her humming and bustling around the kitchen.

Hyde was surprised at his own appetite as he quickly ate his breakfast, he hadn't remembered being hungry in a long time. But as he heard a familiar voice at the sliding door, he suddenly felt as if he couldn't take another bite.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Forman. Is it okay if Jacob and I eat breakfast here?" Jackie's voice was soft and sweet, something rare but he could tell it was genuine. Hyde turned to take in her face and knew she was surprised to see him up so early, but was determined not to let her uneasiness show. He hated how well he could read her.

"Of course, dear. Just sit yourselves down. Red already ate early this morning before he left to go fishing, so there'll be plenty of room." Jackie sat down in Red's seat and Jacob pulled up the extra chair beside her. Hyde snuffed angrily at the air, but fought the urge to leave. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of running him out. So he just sat there, staring at her, determined to make her feel uncomfortable instead. He removed his shades and leaned back in his chair. And then began to just glare at her. Jackie looked anywhere and everywhere around the kitchen to avoid his gaze. As Kitty quickly assembled the new guests' plates, Jackie felt each second of his eyes on her like a punch to the heart.

Noticing the tension and still confused over the last evenings run in with this angry looking man, Jacob foolishly tried to start polite conversation. "So, Steven is it? Are you a close friend of Jackie's? How long have you known her? Has she always been this pretty?" Jacob gave a light chuckle as he smiled at his fiancé and then looked naively to Hyde.

Hyde let an arrogant smile slowly spread across his lips before answering, still never breaking his gaze from Jackie. "The name's Hyde. I guess you could say me and Jackie are close. Well, just last night, now what were we doing that might give Jacob an idea of how close we are? Jackie, do you remember?" Jackie's face shot up and she met his eyes for the first time, half full of fear, and yet blazing with anger. She pursed her lips together warningly. "Oh, yeah. That's right. We were _talking_. About the good ol' days. Like back when she was dating that guy, for like 3 years. What was his name? And they were happy, or at least so he thought, until she started dishing out ultimatums about marriage even though they were both barely out of high school. And she made him bitter and angry at the world and the next thing they both knew he was married to a stripper." Hyde shook his head slowly from side to side. "It's a shame to. Consensus was they were pretty good for each other. Hmm. Kinda sad." Hyde stood from his chair."Oh and yes. She's always been pretty. Especially when she's quiet." Hyde saw Jackie's bottom lip quivering, and he knew he had succeeded. "Well, I've gotta get to the store before Leo gets any ideas. It was good talking to you, Josh. Have a nice day."

And before Jacob could correct him, Hyde was out the door.


	5. Can You Still Love Me?

Encounter 5

Can You Still Love Me?

Author's Note: Please keep the feedback coming, I have lots of writing to catch up on and it serves as great motivation. Thank you to all who are reading, and especially to those who have reviewed. I hope you enjoy. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

He'd left her in a near-crazed rage. She fought fiercely to keep a cool and leveled exterior, but inside her blood was at a rapid boil, scorching the very walls of her veins. Jackie sat their deaf to Jacob's oblivious ramblings, blind to Kitty's concerned gaze, internally fixated at the specific brand of anger that had consumed the majority of her most-recent waking hours. She couldn't keep going on like this. The weeks away had been liberating. Her mother had introduced her to Jacob the first night and while he tried eagerly to get her to go to dinner with him, she had politely refused, still preoccupied with the blue eyes that had been both her haven and her prison in turn. But within a few days, through persistence, flattery, Disco music, and champagne, Jackie had warmed up to the charming and poised accountant-to-be. By the end of their first date Jackie had begun to think for the first time that love could exist beyond Steven, and though she currently did not love Jacob, she thought she could learn to.Admittedly, that was a far cry from the romantic notions she used to hold, but it was a hell of a lot better than the loneliness and misery she'd been left with since Samantha had shown up. The engagement of course was her mother's idea, a little security since Jacob would be returning to school in Michigan soon. This way Jackie would havea wayto leave the pain of Point Place behind her and move on with her life. But now, stewing at the Forman's kitchen table, Jackie felt Hyde's parting words laying nails under her skin as they replayed in her head, nails that would seem to forever hold her in a place where _**he**_ could affect her like this. And she wished to God that her lips didn't still tingle from his kisses the night before. She couldn't take this. She wouldn't.

* * *

Hyde stood at Groove's register counting the money for what must have been the tenth time. He couldn't seem to concentrate. He kept thinking the nerve of **_her_**, to bring that dillhole into his home for breakfast. At first he felt quite satisfied at the rather distraught look he'd left on her face, but after hours of scrutinizing the morning in his head he'd begun to feel a little guilty, or as close to guilty as he could get. He had hurt her. Again. And hell, he was married, what right did he have to begrudge her happiness? But then he began to reason back his anger. She wasn't any happier. And that Jacob guy would never be able to make her happy. She had just sat there, mutely at his side after she had said such horrible things the day before. And Hyde would consider all this until he was back to being enraged all over again. Beginning to count through the money once more, determined to make it his last time, he looked up at the sound of the door opening.He was surprised to see Donna standing before him with a case of beer in one hand and a familiarly crinkled brown paper bag in the other. He raised an eyebrow at her, serving as both a "Hello." and a "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Fez is on his way and Kelso will be here in about two hours,so long ashe remembers to put gas in the car." Her voice was casual as she seated herself on the store's couch and looked at him expectantly.

He moved from behind the register and opening a beer, sat beside her. "Any particular reason for this little party?"

"You." Her look remained steady. Hyde began to eye her suspiciously, and taking his shades off and hooking them to the front of his t-shirt, his blue eyes asked for an explanation. "Look Hyde, you've always been kind of a stoic-unless-I-am-really-pissed-off kind of guy, and for the most part we've all accepted, even enjoyed that fact. You're "zen" or whatever, and we get it. But last night, that look you gave Jackie, the way you stormed out, me and Fez realized we've been lousy friends lately. You aren't really zen, you're just avoiding. You aren't okay with how things are, and we should have noticed sooner and we're sorry. But now we're going to help you figure things out. And this," she indicated first the beer, and then the bag," and this, are to assist us and ensure some clarity, if you will." She finished with a large smile, and Hyde gave her a slight grin, deciding Donna was more of a girl than she usually let on.

* * *

Jackie had put Jacob to bed early, assuring him she'd be in after she took a nice bath and gave herself a facial. Once his breathing had evened out with sleep though, she snuck back over to the Forman basement. She paced the small room Hyde called home, waiting to pounce as soon as he returned. An eternity seemed to pass as she practiced the speech she'd planned out over and over under her breath. Finally, well after 1am, she heard not just one, but several sets of footsteps enter the basement. Hearing a blend of voices she recognized as well as her own, she tiptoed into the shower room once they'd all settled in front of the TV. She hadn't planned on involving their friends in this conversation, and she certainly was not eager to hand him another opportunity to publicly insult her, so she stood still and listened, hoping the others would go home soon.

After an entire episode of _Gilligan's Island_, and halfway through a rerun of _Bewitched_, Fez and Kelso announced they'd be heading to the apartment to call it a night. She peeked out and was a little confused to see Hyde give Kelso a hug, thanking him for coming up, before returning to his chair. She heard the bang of the door and wondered how much longer the lumberjack would stay. And that's when the conversation began to pick her interest.

"You know, man, I appreciate what you did." Hyde's voice stayed even, but Jackie thought she heard the genuine quality it took on when he was serious.

"So, do you think you know what you want to do?"

"Well, I need to talk to Sam first and get that out of the way. But really after that, it'skinda up to Jackie." Upon hearing her name, Jackiecrouched topeep out from her hiding space once more. She watched as Hyde leaned forward, elbows on his knees and sighed.

"She still loves you, Hyde. That much is obvious. But you hurt her, more than you or I can probably ever really know. She'll come back, but you are going to have not just say your sorry. But prove it. Graveling will probably have to be involved." Jackie heard him chuckle softly before sitting back up in his chair and responding.

"Man, I can hear her now. 'Steven, nothing says 'I'm sorry' like obviously expensive jewelry. Preferably diamonds.'" Donna laughed, and Jackie had to give a little smirk at how well he knew her.

"Speaking of diamonds, do you still have the ring? Or did you give it to Sam?"

"Are you kidding, man? That ring? To a stripper? It'd be like saying, 'Hey, you just got upgraded to a prostitute, but look it's shiny.'" Donna laughed again before noticing Hyde's expression had turned serious again. "Besides, I bought it for Jackie. The size, the cut, everything about it was what Jackie always hinted, or bluntly stated, she wanted. It wouldn't be fair to give Sam another girl's ring." Donna nodded and smiled.

"Who knew Steven Hyde could be so sentimental?"

"Tell anyone and I _will_ hit a girl."

Jackie heard them both laugh low before the sound of the door opening cut it off. Then she heard the name she'd grown to hate above all others spoken with surprise.

"Sam!"


	6. Can You Hear What I Can't Say?

Encounter

Chapter 6: Can You Hear What I Can't Say?

Author's Note: I'm trying to keep up with all my stories, but I tell you, I hadn't realized how many I had going on at the same time. At any rate, here's the next chapter of this bad boy, and hopefully you like it. Things should be getting pretty interesting, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Sam!"

Jackie felt the churning in her stomach that told her she just might get sick. Hearing Steven's words, and what she thought they might mean, she was sure that as soon as Donna left the two of them could talk, they could figure things out. Maybe not erase all the troubles and pains that they had between them, but at leaststart to heal. But now, there was no way. Not with the stripper hanging all over him, cooing idiotic nothings into his ear, holding on to him tightly. It made Jackie's skin crawl with hatred and jealousy and rage just thinking about it.

"Hey, baby." Jackie peeked to see the blonde brush passed Donna and kiss Hyde's cheek before collapsing onto the couch.

* * *

"What are you, I mean, why are you back so soon?" Hyde's voice sounded nervous, even to his own ears, and he looked at Donna helplessly. He'd just said he wanted to talk to Sam about his feelings for Jackie. But he hadn't meant right now.

"Well good to see you too." Hyde was relieved at her teasing tone, she hadn't caught on to his tenseness, or to the fact that she had so obviously interrupted something. "I switched shifts with another girl and got on an earlier flight. I just missed you so much." She scooted down the couch closer to him, and gave him a look that he assumed meant she wanted to be alone as she nodded towards his room.

Donna looked amused atSam's patheticattempt at subtletyas she stifled a laugh and raised a mocking eyebrow at him from her place on the couch.

"Huh. Well, Sam. I…" Hyde started, but was thankful when Donna cut him.

"Hey, Sam. I'm sure you did miss him, but we were actually in the middle of a discussion. Do you think you could excuse us for a few minutes. Thanks." Hyde knew Sam was not dumb enough to miss the threatening tone that underplayed Donna's request, so she looked to him hopefully, wanting him to ask her to stay,but when he remained silent, she retrieved her bag from the spot by the door and made her way to his room.

* * *

Hearing Samantha coming passed, Jackie sucked in her breath and prayed the blonde didn't notice her, not completely hidden by the curtain from all sides.

Once the door was shut, Jackie noticed that the two who remained had begun talking again, but this time their voices were more hushed, and she had to strain her ears to hear them.

"Donna, what do I do?"

"Exactly what you said you were going to. Tell her it's over."

"But, I mean, man, shouldn't I put it more delicately than that?"

"Steven Hyde, when have you ever said _anything_ delicately?"

"Good point."

"Just go in there, and be like 'Sam, We need to talk.' And then, well, talk."

Jackie heard them shuffling and heard the basement door open, then she heard Donna's voice, in a more regular tone, speak again. "And Hyde…"

"Yeah, man?"

"Good luck."

Jackie heard the door close behind her friend, and she knew at last, her and Steven were alone in the basement.

* * *

Hyde let out his breath slowly. He was nervous, painfully so. And he hated it, because that was not zen, and he needed to be zen right now. He had appreciated everything his friends had done, but thinking about what he'd had with Jackie, or how he'd lost it, or how things were currently, was never easy for him, and he needed to keep hold of his zen so he wouldn't lose control.

Running his fingers through his curls, he wondered if he looked as tired as he felt, and just as he sighed, about to open the door to his room, he heard a pleading whisper, "Steven, wait."

And he turned around, surprised, horrified, angry, delighted – all at the sound of Jackie's voice.

"Jackie? What the hell are you doing back there? How long have you been back there?"

"I was eavesdropping, and long enough."

He narrowed his eyes at her, and he wasn't sure why, but of all the things he was feeling, perhaps anger was what he felt the most. "You were eavesdropping? Listening in on your friends? God, Jackie, what the hell is wrong with you? Have you no respect for people's privacy?"

"But, Steven…"

"Save it, Jackie. I'm not interested in how you justify it. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to bed." He knew he was being ridiculous. Sure, she had been listening in, but at the same time that didn't change the fact that he still meant all that'd he'd said, nor did it changewhat he had been prepared to do when he walked in there.

"No, Steven. Please, just hear me out." Her eyes were as big as he'd ever seen them, fearfully gazing at him. He could see the sparkle of adoration they always held when she looked at him, and it made his knees buckle slightly. He'd never understood how she could love him so much.

"Steven, I know I shouldn't have listened in. I didn't mean to, well not really anyway. You see after what you said this morning, I was so upset. All day I just kept thinking over and over how angry you had seemed, how much it seemed you wanted to hurt me, and well, my temper took over. I ignored Jacob all day. I barely got anything done, I just came up with all the things I could say that would upset you like you'd upset me. And I had it all planned out. I was going to come to you, and tell you that I was the best thing that ever happened to you and that you could either suck it up and apologize and promise not to mistreat me anymore, and I'd stay in your life, or I was gone and you'd never hear from me again. I was going to tell you that as much as I hate you for it, I also love you for the way you can get to me like no one else can, and that I think I always will. But that I can't be hurt anymore, I wouldn't let it keep happening. And I was going to kiss you with everything I had in me, and then wait for you answer. So as soon as Jacob fell asleep I came over and I waited in your room, and you didn't come home and you didn't come. And then I heard you, but you weren't alone. And I didn't want to have an audience, too much has already happened between us, right there on display, but I could not show I'd been in your room without an explanation. So I hid. And I waited for them to leave, so we could talk. But Donna just wouldn't go home. And then you said all that you said and I was so hopeful, as to what it could mean for us. And then well, you can figure out the rest. I'm sorry, Steven. I wasn't meaning for it to happen like this. But please don't just walk passed me, please talk to me. Is it true, what you and Donna seemed to talk about? Do you still love me?"

She stared, demanding an answer, eyes bright and eager. And Hyde's brain was full, thoughts swimming by so quickly. And he couldn't hear, and he couldn't see, and all he could do was take three strides forward and pull her into his arms and crash his mouth back on to hers and feel the burn, of want and relief and anger and release all at the same time. And neither one noticed, or cared to hear, the sound of the basement door open and the sharp gasp of surprise.


	7. Can You Hate Me More?

Encounter: Chapter 7

Can You Hate Me More?

Author's Note: Sorry, I'm dragging. I no longer have a personal computer, so I'm using my parents' and it isn't the most consistent of systems. I am unsure of this chapter so feedback would be fantastic. Please, love it or hate it, let me know what you think. And as always, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Jackie! What the hell?"

Hearing Jacob's voice, Jackie sprang away from Hyde's embrace, and he could instantly see the shame and guilt pinken her pretty cheeks. He sighed, knowing things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

Jackie took a few small, tentative steps towards her fiancé, and winced as he backed away, face wrinkled in disgust. "Jacob, I am so sorry. I can explain." She pleaded with her eyes, trying to bring him in closer. "Really. Steven and I, well, there's, ummm…" She suddenly felt a great wave of panic as she realized she _couldn't_ explain. She didn't know where or how to start. And having been put in his position so many times herself, she couldn't help the tears welling up in her eyes. For an instant she thought she might be sick. This wasn't like the accidental kiss with the cheese guy. She had eagerly accepted this kiss, wanting it, wanting Steven. She was now officially a cheater, and she hated what she had become.

"Please, Jacob. Me and Steven – we have a lot of history, messy history. We were in love, I should have told you. I'm sorry."

Hyde's attention lingered angrily on her use of the past tense. What the hell did she mean by "were"?

"It was a mistake, Jacob. Please believe me."

Hyde felt a throbbing of anger in his ears, and bitter bile rise up in his throat, as he watched she who had pleaded with him just moments before, now plead with another, begging for forgiveness, calling his kiss a mistake. He felt rage shudder through his chest, not only at her and this situation, but at himself. He had done it again. He'd let her make him stupid. She had this way of creeping into his brain and wiping out all sense, and just _stupefying_ him. Standing now, watching her, he rediscovered his hate for her, and didn't shed a tear for the love and lust and want he was letting slip away.

"Yeah, Jacob. It was a mistake. Temporary Insanity."

Jackie's head snapped in Hyde's direction. She knew that tone. And it scared her.

"I mean sure, Jackie is hot. And I wouldn't have been sad if I'd have hit that one last time. But she isn't worth it, not for me anyway. Best of luck to you though, man. And I'll keep my fingers crossed that she doesn't become a pathetic, boozed up whore. I hear it's partially genetic, and well, you've met her mom."

Jackie let out a slow breath. Though her chest stung a little from his words, he could do worse. So she fixed him with a gaze that showed her hurt, but also challenged him.

Their eyes were locked intensely, not leaving each other's forthe tiniestsecond. Not even when the creak of Hyde's door added yet another player to the scene. The triangle became a square.

"What's going on?" Sam's voice sounded as naturally confused as ever as she looked from her husband to Jackie and back again.

"Nothing, baby, go back to sleep." Hyde's stare never broke from Jackie.

"But I'm not tired," Sam's whine was accompanied by a pout Hyde didn't bother to see.

His eyes flickering, bearing deep into Jackie's, he placed a sneering smirk upon his lips and replied with careful innuendo, " Well, _baby_,I'm sure I can find a few ways to wear you out."

Sam's face brightened and turned smugly to Jackie, who finally broke her eyes away. Looking down as she teared up once more, she realized how it hurt just as much knowing that he wanted her to suffer as anything he ever said. Looking back up to find his blue eyes still poundingly focused on her, mocking her weakness, she felt as if she couldn't breathe.

"Go to hell, Steven. And take your stupid whore with you."

And then she stormed through the tension and out of the basement.

* * *

Jackieraced out into the night, running as soon as she hit the edge of the Forman driveway, uncaring that Jacob was behind her, scrambling to catch up. Even as he called her name she made no effort to slow down. She needed to get as far away from Steven Hyde as possible, even if it was 3 in the morning. 

She heard his heavy breathing as he ran up to her, but it wasn't until he caught her arm that she turned her fuming eyes upon him.

Jacob dropped his hold in surprise at the intensity that marred her gorgeous features, and her face visibly softened apologetically.

"I _am_ sorry, Jacob. I know I've said it a lot, but it's true. I meant it, kissing Steven was a mistake. It wasn't fair to you, It isn't who I am." Jackie looked down at the cracked sidewalk, the dried brown blades of grass poking defiantly through the gray cement. She breathed deeply, then looked back to his eyes. "But sometimes I think I still love him. And sometimes I know I still hate him. And either way, it is obvious that I am not over him, or what we had. And until I am, I can't offer you what you signed up for, what you deserve. I'm sorry, Jacob; but I can't marry you."

Placing a small kiss on his cheek, and a beautiful ring in his hand, Jackie turned and continued to walk into the night, all alone.


	8. Can We Start Over?

Encounter: Chapter 8

Can **_We_ **Start Over?

Author's Note: Okay, so I'm sorry this took me like 3 months to put up. And I apologize if it sucks. There's a bit of shift in tone, and that's on purpose. It makes sense to me, but if it doesn't to you, feel free to throw things. I really hope it doesn't suck. Please let me know what you think, good or bad. And I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

His basement room was dark, murky-thick-black-night dark, and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. In the dark he could focus on the anger. In the dark he could allow the dry lips of Samantha to drag along his collarbone and not feel ill at the site of her. In the dark, he could get his revenge without hating himself.

But he knew in a few hours, it would be light.

His body was tense, all his muscles flexed, as he flipped Sam over with a grunt and took control of his situation.

He wanted a release. He wanted to relax. He wanted to forget, for just one merciful second, about Jackie.

But he knew that we can't always get what we want.

A buzzing filled his ears and a throbbing pain began to build in his head. This wasn't helping and he had to roughly swallow a few times to keep himself in check. Frustrated that his great plan to screw his wife until the echo of Jackie's parting words were gone was not working, he forcefully pried Sam's arms from his torso and ignored her gasp of surprise at the abrupt change of tides.

He could smell the stench of sweat and Sam's perfume so strongly; it was like the room was toxic. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark and yet he could not see a way out. And suddenly, the whole world felt too small for him and in a rush of revived anger he reached for the lamp on his night stand and threw it across the room with all his might, letting out an enraged growl of "Fuck!" as the bulb shattered with a clang and the heavy stand fell with a thud to the floor.

* * *

Sitting in the woods, watching the earliest grey light edge its way into being, Jackie's entire body was shaking violently from the cold dawn. Her teeth chattered loudly, the chills would not cease, and yet her eyes were vacantly unaware as they stared. It had been a long walk to this spot in the woods, a long walk through the latest of hours. But she couldn't remember a moment from the last sight of Jacob's retreating form until she'd arrived here. She thought to how naive they'd been, her and her Steven, the first time they'd been here together, alone. The memory was so vivid, so detailed, it was like she could reach out and touch it. She watched the movie of her life, 4 years prior. She reveled in the remembered feeling of what the first kiss had been. How hot his breath had felt upon her cheek as they leaned together. How knotted her insides had felt in anticipation of his lips. How much, already in that moment, months before they'd had their real chance, she'd wanted to burrow her way inside him and drink every last drop of his being. Even before she loved him, the mere anticipation of his touch could make her drunk. 

And apparently, so could the memory. For as a pale yellow glow pushed through the trees, her vision blurred. Exhausted, she let her lids close over her eyes, and finally, the tears stopped.

* * *

Though she was undoubtedly one of the dumbest people he'd ever met, Samantha had taken his late night outburst as a sign. As he sat, eating his breakfast with Mrs. Forman, she was downstairs packing her bags. 

He wasn't sorry to see her go. He really wasn't anything about it. His mind was too busy running between replays of the kiss, the hurt, the words, and zen mantras of "whatever", "I hate her," "I need no one."

He was thankful Kitty seemed to believe him for the first time in all the years he'd been here when he said he didn't want to talk about it. She sat quietly beside him, occasionally glancing at him lovingly and offering a sad smile.

Every part of his body was in pain. Every part of his conscience said he deserved it. And he couldn't wait for Sam to be gone so he could lie himself down and sleep.

Yet, at the same time, he was terrified of his dreams. He knew she'd be there. He knew he'd be happy there too. And it would make it that much worse when he woke up. Without her.

He heard the basement door open, but he saw no one as Sam ducked through the dining room and den. And it wasn't until the front door slammed that he got his confirmation that his marriage was over.

And finally, he could feel something good. The slightest hint of relief.

* * *

"Miss? Miss!...Are you okay?" 

Jackie's mind told her eyes to open as she could feel eyes on her, bodies near her, and she had no idea who they belonged to.

The moment her body stirred, she registered the soreness. The aching in her feet from walking. The burning in her legs from being bent at weird angles through the night. The sting and rough pull in her chest from sobbing for hours. She winced as she struggled to pull herself up and meet the gaze of the inquisitors.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thanks" Her voice was gravel and hoarse and she swallowed forcefully to try and wet her throat. Looking to the faces of the couple in front of her, a man and a woman about her parents' age, she tried to pull out a convincing smile as her legs reacted weakly to her mental request to walk.

Withering under their intense and worried gaze, she finally conceded and agreed to take up their offer of a ride home. The drive back to town was a blur of browns and greys and greens as her eyes remained steadily locked out her window.

Finally, the fog of her daze began to thin and clear, just in time to give the last few directions to her home.

Thanking the couple genuinely, all the while ignoring their still worried expressions, Jackie slowly made her way out of the car and up to her apartment.

The anger had drained, the passion had faded. She'd spent two days completely on edge, alive and electrified, for better or worse, all instigated by _him._

Steven.

She'd burned bright, and then burned out with a flash and a slam.

And she was a zombie now, without him.

* * *

He couldn't stay in the basement. He couldn't sit still.

He was tired, wary. He felt as if he'd aged 10 years in two days, and his body was hating him for his many abuses.

But he couldn't rest. He'd tried, and her face dancing in the black of his mind snapped his eyes open wide. He couldn't stop. And staring at the TV, for once, allowed him no escape.

He opened a beer and took a sip, expecting the satisfaction that always came. But for the first time in his life, his face contorted in disgust. And he slammed the can back down in desperate disappointment.

He lit a joint. But he couldn't get high.

He couldn't stay, so he wandered. Wandered without thinking, passed the Hub, passed the school, until he found himself in front of her door.

He didn't knock. He just wandered. And in the instant he saw her, pale and sunken on the couch, he realized where he was and thought, "My God, she looks as lost as I feel. As gone."

She looked to him, and his breath caught as he saw color return to her cheeks and an ember of light, however small, ignite in her eyes.

His pulse seemed to quicken, back to a normal speed, and he gasped a violent breath as their stare shook life back through him.

The slow motion stopped.

"Jackie."

"Steven."

"We need to talk..."


	9. Can I Forgive You?

Encounter: Chapter 9

Can I Forgive You?

Author's Note: This story is starting to wrap up and I am full on begging for comments. Thanks for reading, thanks to all who've reviewed, thanks to all who collectively wish season 8 to hell but know we've got to deal with it somehow.

And as always, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Steven Hyde made his way further into the room, sucking in steadying breaths as he sat slowly down beside her. He looked cautiously at her, the one person who could make he-who-proudly-_never-_ felt-_anything_, feel _everything_ all at once. Her face, showing obvious confusion and exhaustion, seemed older; her head hung slightly, heavy on her shoulders. Her tiny hands that lay fragile in her lap were chapped and smudged with dirt, so unlike her. As horrible as he felt, he knew she felt worse. The bitterness, the jealousy, the anger. She'd been living in a hell he'd created for her much longer than he would care to admit. And he honestly couldn't understand why he'd hurt her so ruthlessly, why he'd wanted her pain so desperately. And the only explanation that he could find was that he truly did love her, and yet that didn't make any sense.

He shuddered, though he wasn't cold.

The moments ticked by, the silence surrounded them, and finally a thin rasp he barely recognized as her voice spoke.

"You said we needed to talk, so talk."

He looked up to find her jaw quivering with intensity, her gaze set right passed him, over his shoulder, a safe distance from his eyes. And her whole body was shaking.

Being this near to him was making her crazy, crazy with violence and lust and need. And despite herself she craved a return to the numbness that had gotten her through the night. And she set herself in stillness.

He sensed that she wouldn't let him stay much longer if he didn't open his mouth. But could he say what needed to be said? Could either of them stand to hear it?

He gulped down air and nothingness, and held the wind in his throat. He relished the suffocating feeling in his chest, as it allowed him to muster up motivation somehow. He waited until he couldn't bear the burning in his lungs any longer, and gasped forth for a brutal breath of oxygen. He coughed nervously, and ran his fingers roughly through his hair. He felt a wave of memory swipe at him harshly; as he felt the very same bile seering, scratching in his throat as he had the day he had told her first that he loved her, after he'd hurt her with the nurse. And he took great care to confirm that his shades were in their rightful place over his eyes before speaking.

"I needed to hurt you. I needed to see it taking place in front of me, to be sure that I could. That's why I let Sam stay, that's why every word I've uttered in your direction for months has been set out to not just burn you, but scar you. I was so hurt, so angry, after the ultimatum, after the hotel. And I loved you too much to stay away, but I hated you too much to stand it. So I needed to know I could hurt you, just like you hurt me. And somehow, I'm terribly sorry, and yet not at all, at the exact same time."

He noticed her blink briefly, but other than that, she remained so motionless it scared him. She stared back at him for minute after minute before prodding, "Keep talking, Steven."

He looked at her incredulously. Shocked, disappointed, terrified, at her lack of reaction. Annoyed at her demanding yet unfeeling response. "Keep talking? Jackie, do you have any idea how hard this stuff is for me?"

"Yes, Steven, I do. But I also don't care. So keep talking. Or you could just leave." Her voice was weak, light, void. And seeing her, the emptiness he'd reduced her to, he realized how he really had brought her down, so far from the Jackie he'd met, and the Jackie he'd loved. And it wasn't fair. She'd taught him to feel, for better or worse, and in turn, he'd killed that capacity in her. The last little light he'd taken hope from as it ignited with his arrival had now dimmed and vanished, and Steven Hyde was terrified.

So he took that in as fuel for his fire, and he turned to her in a fury.

"You'd like it if I left, wouldn't you? Then you could sleep for days, wake up still numb, find a dumb, rich, adoring man to spoil you, and you'd never have to feel anything again. Anything except the greed, and the pride, and selfishness you were raised on. But, damn it, Jackie. I'm not going to let that happen. I hurt you, I hurt you again and again, and what's worse, I meant to. And I get that you don't want to feel that anymore, you know I get it, but that's not who you are, that's who I am, so I'm telling you to snap the fuck out of it!"

He was feeling heavy from his outburst as he sadly watched his bait fall flatly to the floor.

She wasn't fazed.

He roughly pulled her shoulders to face her towards him and then moved one hand to her face to guide her to look in his eyes.

"Look at me." He growled. "Jackie, fucking look at me!"

Finally, he saw her blink away a single tear before turning those eyes to his.

"Why, Steven?" her voice broke desperately, and he finally got a reaction. "Why? Can't you just relish the fact that you taught me zen so well? I don't want to feel anything. I don't want to look at you. I'm trying to hold it in, but its so hard, and I think I might explode, but I can't take anymore, so please don't make me look at you. Please just say what you've got to say and then leave. I don't want to feel. I don't want you to make me." Her eyes reverted to the wall, and she pulled his hands from her face, not even flinching when she slightly scratched her own cheek in the process.

His voice came back as strong as ever though, despite her protests. "No. I'll say my piece, but I'm not going anywhere. Not until you've had your turn. I'm sick of being miserable. I'm tired of just sucking it up and pushing on through. Either we're over, really over, and we've got our closure and can have a decent shot of moving on, or we give in to how bad we want each other, need each other, are fucking toxic to anyone other than each other, and we try again. But we're not going to keep dancing away from solving this. I know I started it, I know the avoidance is my fault, but it stops, right here, right now. Tell me how you felt about Sam. Tell me how you felt when you left for Chicago. Really, Jackie, how did it feel when you heard I had a wife when I wouldn't commit to marrying you? How did it feel to know I was passed out in a warehouse when all you wanted was a sign? Tell, me, Jacks. What's it like to love a man who can't say they love you back? Who won't? Did it feel good to know you could make me crazed with jealousy? To know you still can? Tell me, Jackie. The moment you knew about Sam did you wish you _had_ slept with Kelso? Did you have nightmares of me touching her the way I used to touch you? Tell me. Tell me, now, damn it!" His voice had risen, his face was wild with desperation. He'd edged himself so close to her, she was pinned to the back of the couch. He reached for her, and she cringed, she pulled away in tears as she began to shout over his persist pleas.

"No! It's too late, Steven. I don't want to think about it. I can't. I won't. So just go. Please, please, just go. If you ever thought you might have loved me, ever, then go." She repeated her begging over and over and as he moved in even closer she began beating her tiny fists against his chest, crying now, desperate to put off the feeling at any cost.

But he was too strong, and he caught her flailing arms and pinned them with surprising ease, before leaning in and whispering, "Tell me, Jackie, or I'll never let you go." He pulled back slightly as he noticed her shaking, her fighting, her crying all suddenly halt, and she looked back up to his eyes, deep into his eyes, for what he dreaded might be the very last time.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

"I loved you, Steven. With my whole heart. Maybe with more than love than I had to give away. So how did it feel when you avoided me? When you ignored me? When you devalued me? When you replaced me? I don't know how it felt, Steven, because it **killed** me. And the dead can't feel." She took advantage of his momentary surprise and pushed with all the strength her tiny frame had until he fell back away from her and she could lift herself from her prison on the couch. She walked to the door and opened it, then turned to him with the kind of all-consuming hate that blackened her eyes and distorted her beautiful face, and her voice was eerily calm. "And as for wishing I had slept with Michael? I don't need to wish. We'd been screwing for hours before you ever showed up. I just lied to try and get you back, but to be honest, now I don't want you. Get the hell out of my life."


	10. Can I Live Without You?

Encounter: Chapter 10

Can I Live Without You?

Author's Note: Okay, so I'm making a vow to just keep on top of these stories. I've spent the majority of the last two days at my computer, and I have just realized how much time I'd let pass on some of these stories and I can not believe it. I'd like to point out that this specific update was made quickly, and is rather lengthy for my chapters, out of love for luvcali76's November Rain. Because that story just kicks ass. And I'm baiting her to update sooner. Please Review and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: It's all mine. Especially Hyde. He's mine, and he's naked. No wait, hold on, that was last night's dream. Damn it! None of it's mine. Cruel, cruel reality –what a whore!

* * *

His heart stopped, his head pounded, and his eyes clouded with shock, and rage, and disgust. 

But he didn't move from the couch.

And as Jackie took in his body pulsating, his set, angular jaw twitching with raw, savage, hysterical anger, she forced her lips into a villainous smile and kicked him while he was down.

"Didn't you hear me, Steven? **I don't** want _**you**_. And now that I'm single again, maybe I can talk Michael into making me feel better. Like he did in Chicago. I really don't think you want to be here to see that, to hear that. You know how I tend to scream."

She knew she was preying on his insecurities, on his mistrust, using the possessiveness he still felt for her to steal any peace from his mind. She knew how deeply she was hurting him...and she loved it. "Aww, Steven, you seem upset. Maybe you weren't finished, maybe you have more to say? Okay, then, let's talk. Why don't** you** tell **me**, Steven, did you ever have nightmares about **_him_** touching me the way you used to, the way you want to? When you walked into that hotel room, did you imagine his body, slick with sweat, pressed flush, full against mine, his hands all over me, his lips, his breath? Was the image burned into your brain? That picture of him making me forget all about you?"

The victoriously malicious sneer that had found itself upon her face was short lived as he growled at her to shut the fuck up and moved swiftly from the couch to occupy the space in front of her, pressing his height advantage over her until surprise and fear washed across her face.

He leaned into her, much like he had drunkly in the basement two nights before, and trapped her against the frame of the door. His right hand gripped her upper arm, and it hurt badly as if it was being crushed under the weight of both of their sins. He had pushed her back so that the ridges of the wood dug into the smooth skin of her back, making her mouth part in the smallest of screams, and her eyes widen with the increasing pain. His face was vicious and she almost didn't recognize him as he leaned beside her and snarled in shallow breaths, "I know what your doing, and you know I know it's working. I can't see straight, I can't breathe even, I can't think clear. But this isn't over, doll. It's far from over." His hand squeezed even tighter into the tender flesh he held her by as he scavenged her lips to stifle her gasps and to bruise her senseless. His teeth scraped against her chapped, cry-swollen bottom lip, and then he sucked it into his mouth, licking her blood up to deepen the sting. Sudden and hard, he pushed away from her, leaving her shoulder to crack against the edge of the plastered wall, and showing no response, let alone remorse, he stalked down the hall away from her.

And she was too stunned to cry.

* * *

The El Camino was at its top speed. Hyde didn't care that this road was narrow, that the severe gusts of wind shifted his place on the road, that the sky had grey clouds rushing in at all directions. He just pressed the gas pedal to the floor with all his weight, and bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming. His mind frantically searched for a plan, wanting desperately to have decision on where to go, on what to do, but he couldn't focus on anything for more than a flash of a second. Anything, that is, that wasn't the feeling that cement was filling his lungs until he was choking on each breath. 

He couldn't drive fast enough, the music couldn't get loud enough, he couldn't get far enough away. He wanted to run, but he didn't know where to go. He wanted to stay, but he didn't know how to take this. He was lost, and suddenly the urge to fight over took him, and not even glancing at the surrounding traffic or bothering to slow down, he spun into a U-turn and was off in search of Michael Kelso.

* * *

It took her a minute to remember to breathe. It took her several to let go of the death grip she had on the doorknob that had been keeping her standing. And after what seemed like a blinded eternity, she made her way back fully into the apartment, closed the door, and slid down it, crouching on the floor. 

Her cheeks were flushed, her hands were cold. She couldn't decipher if she was feeling a million things or nothing at all. Every moment with him was exhausting. Every conversation was a battle. Every kiss was life and death rolled into one. She pressed her fingers carefully to her lips, and winced at her own touch. He was her salvation and her ruin all at once, and that was why she honestly could not decide if she loved or hate him more.

And what did he mean this wasn't over? How much more could he possibly take?

She closed her eyes and saw him hovering before her, his eyes, his smirk, taunting her for fighting a losing battle against the way he made her feel. She let out a weary sigh of desperation, and let her head fall back against the door, ignoring the sharp pain and loud thud.

She needed it over.

* * *

After storming into the basement to find nothing more than Donna and Randy sitting on the couch, Hyde had rushed back out again and back into the El Camino. He'd checked the movie theatre and the local bars, and had settled on the Hub as the only place left Fez and Kelso could go. He barely put the car in park before roughly exiting, slamming the door loudly behind him. His face must have stated his mission for as he made his way through the front door teenagers dodged out of his way. He scanned the room quickly but thoroughly. The table by the bathrooms. The arcade games. The order window. Then his eyes caught sight of a familiar face in the back corner, leaned over two barely legal girls, making them giggle flirtatiously. He clenched his fist at his side, and strode purposefully past the tables of fearful students, and tapped his friend on the shoulder. 

"Kelso."

Kelso didn't turn around, merely waved his hand dismissively behind him. "Not now, man. I've made two new friends."

"Kelso." Michael straightened and turned slowly, recognizing the warning quality of Hyde's voice. Facing one of his oldest buddies, they both took a moment to take in the other's expression. Hyde's overwhelming, barely contained anger. Kelso's blatant confusion and fear.

"Hyde?"

Punch. Full of every ounce of blood, flesh, tear, anger, and pain that made up Steven Hyde, his fist made contact with Kelso's face.

As his friend looked paniced and questioningly back to him, holding his cheek in pain, Hyde felt no amount of sympathy.

"I've got one question, and I need you to be completely honest for perhaps the first time in your life."

Kelso's face, more serious than Hyde had ever seen it, blinked slowly then nodded.

"What happened in Chicago?"

"What? Hyde, we've been over this. Nothing happened."

"No, something happened. You were in a towel. And we've never really been over this. I know I said that last punch had everything I needed to say, but well, I'm obviously feeling chatty again, so I repeat…What happened?"

"Uh, ummm." Kelso's face looked nervously around, brown eyes wide and cautious. "Um, man, do we have to do this here? Can't we go somewhere else to talk?"

Hyde took one step back, allowing his friend to pass in front of him and out into the storm.

* * *

Jackie was back to watching the lightening.

She wasn't much of a drinker, but she'd felt the need for a drink once she'd pulled herself up off the floor.

She took out the etched-glass decanter, one of the few "classy" items she taken when she'd left her old house. She always kept it full, full of whiskey like her father had. The boys usually stuck to beer, so it wasn't as if she had to refill it often. But she kept it full and ready, a compulsive action she never fully understood.

Pouring the liquid into her glass, her eyes watched the lights of the storm flash and catch in the delicately decorated glass, and she felt it looked so pretty, right before she threw it back into her thirsting mouth and allowed it to ugly-burn all the way down. She gulped at it all, then refilled the glass again. Again she chugged and swallowed, her eyes tearing at the taste, blurring the image before her of darkening sky. She sucked in a sob as she poured the brown liquid again to the brim of her glass, before slamming it down again, with no intention of stopping any time soon.

* * *

The car was silent save for the drumming of the pelts of rain hitting the roof. The clouds were thickening, moving fast and layered, heavy-dark, creating a beautifully ominous sky.

Hyde still drove with great speed, his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his expression intense and waiting. He heard Kelso clear his throat nervously, and that only twisted the knot in his gut tighter.

Realizing the conversation needed a jump start, Hyde kept his voice even and empty as he spoke. "Jackie was there last night. After you all left. She'd been waiting for me."

Kelso's fearful eyes finally turned to meet Hyde's and he nodded, slowly, sadly.

"I take it things didn't go as we'd all hoped."

"No. She said some things. I said some things. Sam was there. Jacob too. And it all went to hell." Hyde's voice wavered a little at the end, a hint of his persistent anger.

"And Chicago got brought up how?"

"Me. Her. Once I got to talk to her today, she was so gone, you know. And I wanted to snap her out of it. And it just came out. I guess she's not really over it. I know I'm not. And she said things and I need to know if they are true, I need to know what really happened."

Cautiously, Kelso began, "So, you want to know if--"

But Hyde kept him short. "I want to know if you slept with her."

"Man, I don't want to get in the middle of this. It's about you, it's about Jackie, I'm not important in this, please, man, let's just not do this--" Kelso was interrupted again, this time by the slamming of Hyde's fist against the wheel.

"Damn it, Kelso, answer the fucking question!"

"No." Hyde felt himself begin to release the breath he'd been holding, only to be kicked with surprise when he heard his friend speak up again. "And yes."

"What the hell do you mean, No and Yes!" The El Camino swerved slightly with Hyde's angry surprise, and Kelso yelped in fear.

"Man, watch the road!"

Hyde just glared at him, ignoring the pleas for him to return his gaze to the highway, ignoring the thunder and the sheets of water flowing across the windshield. He just glared, gripping the wheel until the blue his veins showed dangerously on his hands.

Kelso's apprehensive squirming didn't faze Hyde in the slightest as he stared him down. "Kelso, explain what the hell that means. Now!"

"Not until you pull over the damn car!"

"Fine!"

Hyde yanked the wheel roughly, situating the El Camino on the edge of the road with a jolt as the rain only came down harder, and the two stared at each other, no remnants of their friendship apparent.

And then glaring, practically snarling, Kelso began. "It means I tried, okay. Persistently. She called, and I came, and I laid there with her while she cried. And I told her I'd have never hurt her like that. That I was stupid and careless when we were together, but that the last thing I'd ever do on purpose was hurt her, so you must not have loved her like I could, like I did. And I kissed her, and she pushed me away. So I tried again, and still she resisted. But I kept trying until she let me. And hours passed and she was still crying, and wondering why you couldn't, why you wouldn't love her. And I told her that if you didn't you were a fool. And I told her I wanted to show her how lovable she was, and try to take her pain away. And she was tired, she was drained. And she didn't push me away when I kissed her, when I pulled at her clothes to gain access to her shoulder, when I touched her so lightly through her dress. She whispered my name, I think to stop me, but I covered her lips with my own until she gave in and kissed me back. And the next thing I know, we're there, about to do it. I'm naked, and she's naked, and we're so close. And I look in her eyes for a second, and realize she's not even there. And that I am full of crap because all I was saying hadn't been about her at all. And I saw a tear slip down her cheek and I just looked down at her, hovering over her so close. And she said, "Please, Michael. I'm so tired, and I love him. I can't." So I pulled away. And I let her put her dress back on. And then she slept. And she looked so sad, so broken. But when she woke up, I was still me. And the guilt and the part of me that knew better faded away, because she's so beautiful, and well, not long after that you showed up. So, no, not really. But it was close, and oh, did I try. And I relished the idea that it might have hurt you. Because if you'd have been there, if you'd have seen the look you put in her eyes, then you'd have wanted to hurt you too."


	11. Can I Trust Us?

Encounter: Chapter 11

Can I Trust Us?

Author's Note: I love That 70's Show, minus season 8 of course, with all of my TV-watching-heart, so I sincerely hope that this isn't complete and total crap and an insult to the characters we all know and cherish. But I think it just might be, 'cause I freaking hate this chapter. But I had to post, it'd been too long. So please forgive me. And let me know what I can do to write better. Thanks a bunch for reading, if anyone still is, and please take a quick second and review.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

The dull but persistent pounding at her temples pulled Jackie Burkhart from her stupor, only to increase in volume and intensity as it matched the forceful and persistent pounding at her door. Her eyes opened, blurring and doubling the small checkerboard tiles that layed out before her, and under her, pressing cooly against her skin. It took her moments to register where she was, who she was, and what she could do to make the knocking stop. Pushing herself up off the floor was difficult, sweaty palms slipping on the slick ceramic, and the dry-fuzz feeling in her mouth making her gag, disrupting her balance. By the time she stumbled into the small living room she'd finally pieced together what the empty glass and empty bottle that had been lying beside her on the kitchen floor were all about, but it wasn't until she opened the door to a very frantic looking Donna that she remembered just why she'd been drinking herself into oblivion. 

Her mind was warm and tired and hazed as her friend pushed passed her, calling out words she was too drunk to understand.

When Donna finally slowed her speech down enough to make any sense to her, Jackie realized she was being asked about Steven. And Michael. Her eyes, which she was having trouble on focusing on just one of the former redheads, darted around the room as her friend paced.

"What makes you think I have any idea what either one of those losers are up to?" Jackie spat her words out with all the vehemence she could between hiccups.

Donna finally stilled, folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Because Hyde came to the basement looking for Kelso, and looking for a fight. I've known both of them since they were six years old and while they've bruised and burned eachother more times than I can count, they've only ever fought over one thing...and that's you. Now what the hell is going on? I've been looking for them for hours and cannot find either one."

Hours? Jackie wondered how long she'd been passed out on her floor. And how long she'd been drinking before that. But the one thing that she was certain of was that she could still feel pain and rage bubbling through her, so she obviously had neither slept nor drank enough. Marching, with only a few trips and sways, back into the kitchen, she kept her voice sharp, feeling Donna was as good as anyone else for directing her anger on.

"Well, I haven't seen Michael in days." Jackie began rummaging through the cabinets in search of more liquor, only half aware that that comment wasn't entirely true. "And as for Steven, well I could not care any less where the hell he is, or what the hell he is doing. Or who he is doing." Finally finding a bottle with what she needed still inside, she made her way back to the sink and with a shaking hand filled a new glass. "I hope he found Michael and that the two cheating bastards fought and fucked eachother up and are left there to rought and die for the wretched wastes of space they are." More hiccups aside, her voice had taken on a dangerously low quality and it was with a new caution that Donna followed her best friend to the sink. She'd never seen Jackie so drunk before, or so hateful. Her voice had changed, and was quiet now when she spoke, prodding.

"Don't say that. You don't mean it, Jackie. Tell me what happened." Donna reached a hand forward, to gently touch the smaller girl's shoulder, when something in Jackie snapped and she spun around.

"Don't touch me!" Her voice was shrill and desperate, and she could feel the fog lifting and sobriety returning with harsh new pain. She needed to drink, to numb it, and fast. And Donna wasn't helping, she hadn't helped in months. And Jackie could feel herself spinning and sinking, yet she felt like she was growing taller all at the same time. "Don't you dare tell me that I don't mean it. I hate him, loathe him, and he's made it so that's the only feeling I've got left. That's the only thing I have left in me to mean. He thinks by merely showing up he can make it all better? He thinks I'm still waiting, the same girl he broke. But he's wrong. Somewhere the hurt became anger, and then the anger became hate. And he kisses me and he holds me and he whispers want and love and he thinks that I'll fall for it, he thinks I care. But he's wrong. I don't. I won't. I can't. And I mean it when I say I hope he's dead. If he's dead, he'll finally understand what he did. He'll finally stop doing it. Killing me, piece by piece. And maybe he'll finally feel a bit of remorse for it all. Because I want it finished, Donna. At any cost. And so I meant it, I mean it, I-" Somehow her tiny fists had began to beat against her own chest to emphasize her words. Then somewhere in her fury she'd found a way to crumble to the floor, thrashing her hands so hard against it she felt them bruise. And then she was just sobbing, choking on her words, curled up into a ball. Donna, shocked and heartbroken for the intense pain she'd been too thoughtless to truly notice until now, when it was staring at her, glaring and raw and bleeding and naked, finally kneeled down to gather Jackie up, and rubbed her back as she gasped for air, only to turn it into more sobs. Cries of absolute unapologetic agony, wails and moans and so many tears. More than Donna thought anyone was capable of, and she thought that this must be what dying sounds like. Neither knew how much time had passed, but before Jackie slipped back out of consciousness, she whispered hoarsly, "I don't mean it. I want to mean it, but I don't."

* * *

The sun was coming up. 

Steven Hyde hated the sun.

He looked down at his fist. Black splaying across his knuckles, the middle one swollen about the bone, dried blood lining the crevices of his skin. He couldn't feel it. He poked it with his other hand, aware that he winced, knowing he flinched, and yet he felt absolutely nothing. Well, nothing because of his hand. He'd dropped Kelso off hours ago. Before the rain had stopped. Before the night had fallen. And then he just drove. Drove while his heart rejoiced in relief. She had lied. Drove while his heart collapsed with pain again. She had lied. Drove while the heart he once was convinced he didn't have broke and re-broke and re-broke again. Finally, he'd stopped. Parked the car in front of the house he'd grown up in. Still dirty and rusty, windows shattered and steps broken. Someone else lived there now, someone else's misery called it home. And he wondered if he'd ever had a chance. Coming from something so ugly, so torn. And then he berated himself for wanting the easy way out. Bud and Edna couldn't be blamed for this. All he could blame was himself.

But he didn't know where to go from here. What to do. God, how he wanted, so badly to crawl back to that apartment. He hoped he'd find her asleep. And being so quiet, so gentle, he'd crawl in beside her. Maybe she'd wake up and hell would be unleashed all over again. But laying there, even for a moment, would be his last chance at heaven.

But no matter how many times the thought entered his brain, he couldn't do it. He look at the bruised hand and it wouldn't turn the ignition. The hand reminded him that he was still angry, and it reminded him of how destructive that anger could be. Could he go back when it was still in him so fiercly? Would it ever be completely gone?

The sun was coming up. And Steven Hyde had no where to hide from it.

* * *

This time when Jackie woke, late morning light was steadily filling her bedroom, scorching her eyes and she fought to open them, all the while sucking in her breath at the intense pain blazing through her head, her hands, her back. She sat up slowly, hating intstantly the sticky feeling that comes with sleeping in your clothes, and while she still felt a bit dizzy, she persisted in her efforts to get up, wanting nothing more than to brush her teeth and wash the remnants of the day before off of her. She paused though, when she heard voices coming from the rest of the apartment. Again, she found herself an unintentional, yet eager, eavesdropper. 

"You should have seen her, she was an absolute mess."

"Well, yes, Donna. She's been a mess. If you had not been so wrapped up in your "BooHoo Eric is in Africa" pity party, you might have noticed much sooner." Jackie felt her pain subside ever so slightly to hear Fez defend her so passionately.

"Alright, I get it, Fez. I've sucked lately. But I'm here now. And we still don't know where Hyde is, he's nursing a black eye, Jackie's a hysteric, drunken, shell, and I just don't know what to do about it."

"Are you sure you don't know where he was going, Kelso? He didn't mention anything when he dropped you off?"

"No. He just said he was sorry. And the he really didn't mean for any of this to happen. Then he just left. But he didn't look good. Maybe it's best if they just stay away from each other. Maybe we were wrong to try and help them get back together. They just make each other miserable."

"They only make each other miserable when they are resisting being together. They can fix this. They have to. Ugh. But I hate it when he just disappears. He should know by now that doesn't help anything." Jackie could hear the impatience, and concern, in Donna's voice and knew she was back to pacing again. She was about to open the door to join them, hand firmly wrapped around the knob, prepared to explain, to discuss, maybe even to process, when she heard another door open and close, and then the voice that made her heart just stop.

"I didn't disappear. I was thinking. And I agree, we can fix this. So, where is she?"

* * *

AN2: Alright, please please please review, so I know how to make the next part not suck so bad. Thanks a bunch! 


	12. Answers

Encounter: Chapter 12

Answers.

Author's Note: This is the end of this story, thank you so much to all who have read it...and especially to you generous souls who have reviewed. Since I was in third grade and wore my bathrobe to school for career day, carrying around a toy typewriter and a coffee mug, writing is all I've ever wanted to do. This is the closest I'm getting, that I may ever get, and you have no idea how appreciative I am of all of you, and your feedback. Just knowing that somebody, anybody is reading...

I adore you, thanks again, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this:)

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I could afford a car with a working heater.

* * *

**Can I Trust Us?**

"I didn't disappear. I was thinking. And I agree, we can fix this. So, where is she?"

Hyde's tone was surprisingly calm...but Donna didn't believe it for a second. His skin was pale from lack of sleep, his chin shadowed with careless stubble. She noticed his clothes were dirty, still wet in places. He looked cold, inside and out.

Her eyes narrowed. "Where have you been?"

He shrugged, and hid behind his glasses. "Around. Where's Jackie?"

Donna was not fooled, let alone intimidated, by the hardass-zen Hyde was trying to pull, and stood a little straighter, crossing her arms across her chest. Even if it was too little, too late, it was her duty to try and protect her friend.

"In her room, sleeping off the hell she was in last night. And I don't know if either one of you are up for this right now."

"Listen, Big D, I'm not up for _this_ right now," he motioned between himself and the solid and defiant-looking blonde standing before him. "And I believe you were just whining that you wanted this fixed. So that's why I'm here. Now move out of my way." His eyebrow raised over the top ridge of his shades, and Donna took a subtle step to her left. Then taking deliberate steps towards Jackie's bedroom, Hyde had thought the protests were over. He was surprised when he heard Donna speak, quietly, evenly, just as he was reaching for the door.

"Steven Hyde, when I got here last night she was drunk. Hysteric. Hatefully pounding her fists everywhere she could she was so angry. I can't see her like that again. I won't. If you go in there, and I hear so much as a raised voice from either of you, you will pray for death over what I will do to you."

They weren't facing eachother, still he nodded before breathing deep...and jumping in.

* * *

Jackie moved quickly to get back in bed, refusing to be caught listening in again, pulling her blanket to her chin just as the man she loved and hated more than she understood made his way in. 

She'd rolled slightly to her side, so that her shoulder and hair guarded her from his gaze, and she held her breath as for a few minutes, he stood there, silent, doing nothing.

She willed herself not to move, to lay there waiting for him to make the effort.

Finally, barely audible over the hum of stillness, he whispered her name. His voice was low and thick, and she had to fight away the victorious smile ...this was what the terrified Steven Hyde sounded like.

Hearing him creep towards the side of the bed, feeling before contact him reaching for her shoulder, he said her name again, and she allowed herself to stir in response. She had remembered she wanted this over with.

With better acting than she knew she was capable of, she rolled in his direction, opened her eyes slowly, and manufactured the look of waking, the flash of surprise, the hint of wonder at what he was doing there.

She didn't have to create the cool anger in her eyes though. That came on its own, as soon as she saw him.

She spoke his name, without any control over her voice. It was hoarse and shakey from sleep, from the screaming of the night before. His name hurt leaving her body. The alcohol had burned her throat. He had burned everything else.

Pushing herself up, she moved to the far side of the bed. As far from him as possible. He reacted to it, but shielded himself by quickly looking away, and moving to lean against the wall.

They had taken their corners...now they were just waiting for the bell.

She surprised herself when she spoke first. "Why are you here?"

"To talk."

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"To do whatever it takes until we aren't going to hurt each other anymore."

"Because we can't, or because we won't."

"I'm hoping for won't, but honestly, at this point, I'll take it either way."

She nodded, and smiled ruefully. She knew what he meant.

She motioned towards the door. "And Donna and Fez trust us not to kill each other in the process?

He shrugged. "_I_ trust that we're both too tired to fight like that again."

She had to surpress fresh, stinging tears. The first time he'd placed any amount of trust in _them_...

* * *

**Can I Live Without You?**

They'd been sitting quietly, looking at nothings hidden in the corners of her room, wondering how to start this, wondering how to end it. Everything was so tense. It was just brushing at him, and then pulling away. He wished it would either surround him or disappear.

_It _was both of their pain. _It _was hopeless.

When he heard her sigh, he almost smiled. Thinking of all the times she'd heaved her breath in and out, just to get him to ask what was wrong...thinking that might be how she'd get him to care. This sigh was different. He suspected she didn't care if he asked what was wrong. He knew she didn't expect him to. And he feared that she might think he'd never care.

It was such a lame line, and he heard it in Eric's voice rather than his own, but he asked her, "What are you thinking?" He just wanted desperately to get something to hold onto out into the air, before they both drowned in it.

"Why?"

"Why am I asking or 'Why' is what you are thinking?"

She looked at him like he was stupid. It'd been so long since she'd looked at him like that. It was almost comforting.

"'Why' is what I'm thinking."

"Why what?"

"Why do you keep showing up now, rather than when I so desperately wanted you to? Why am I not more glad that you are here? Why do I feel like if I can get through this without my heart breaking anymore it will feel like every birthday and Christmas and 'I love you' I've ever had rolled into one?" She took a deep breath. "Why am I so afraid that I'll get what I want this time, an ending, when I was denied all the beginnings and continuations and chances I've ever wanted just as much? Why am I not so sure I can live with any of the outcomes?"

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure if I know."

"What are the different possible outcomes?"

She looked at him, over the bony knees she'd pulled under her chin. "Well, we could both be naive to think any good can come from this conversation, for lack of a better word, and it could explode in our faces at any moment, cause even more anger and pain and hatred...that we didn't even know we had in us to experience."

He nodded. "Or we could make it to the final bow, go our separate ways and realize what that means for our friends, what that says about the last four years of our lives."

She sighed. "Or I could go my separate way, only to find..." She sniffled back a tear.

He finished for her, "that you still miss me?"

Looking, nodding, with the first glimmer of softness in her eyes, "that I can't live without you."

He sucked in a breath...hoping he was hearing her right, but scared of pursuing it. He was weak. He let the moment pass...the softness escape. "Or we could realize we can get passed this, you know, together."

"I really don't think that's a possible outcome. Not anymore."

* * *

**Can I Forgive You?**

He prentended that didn't sting. Though he knew she knew it did. But she hadn't meant it to be brutal, or pointed. She just really meant that. And that's why it hurt.

"You know, I never expected you to get under my skin like you did. Like you do." He chuckled softly, surreally. "I mean when it started, I really thought I was in control. That it wouldn't be like this. That it couldn't be." He looked at her directly, and yet she didn't flinch. "I really never expected..."

She didn't blink. And the smile she gave him was humorless. "That's funny. I did."

"I know you did. And maybe that's why I was so angry sometimes. I was jealous that you were prepared for us. While I felt so blindsided."

"A lot of good being prepared did me. I expected from the beginning that I'd love you enough to break me. Yet I never expected that you would."

"Sad thing is, maybe that's what I need to be able to forgive you for. For not expecting that bad parts. For not expecting the worst from me."

He knew it sounded like passing the blame. But he meant it. And he heard the four years of tears in her voice when she answered.

"Sometimes I think I need to forgive myself for that."

**

* * *

Can We Start Over?**

It had gotten quiet again. He wondered if they were trying not so hard to repeat the mistakes of the last few days that they were missing their chances at doing anything at all. He knew he must have been in there, propped against the wall, leaning all his weight and agony against his now numb shoulder, for hours already. And he'd kept Donna's warnings in mind. No raised voices. But there were no hugs or kisses, no healing wounds either.

He feared they were frozen. He feared risking that for more pain though.

Frozen seemed better than burning at this point. But he wondered for how long.

He looked at her. Her eyes seemed smeared, blurry from the inside out. He thought she looked like she was shaking, but he also thought it might just be his eyes, tense and straine, playing tricks.

He told himself to move forward and touch her and find out. But he didn't listen.

"Jackie." He finally pulled his shoulder from the wall, almost stumbling as it disrupted his balance. As the feeling came back, it felt like fire and he liked it. It was a warm distracting tingling sensation. Somehow it helped his voice get a little stronger, his feet a little braver as they stepped closer to her fortress on the bed. "Jackie, we need to just dive into this. We can't wait it out."

She looked up at him, warily, eyes dancing between surprise and indignation as he got closer to her. He sat on the opposite edge of her bed, and thought for a minute she was going to open her mouth and snap at him to get up, but then the air of fight left her and she seemed to shrug herself into not caring...so long as he didn't move any closer.

"Jackie, what would make it all stop? What could?"

He wanted for her to look at him, through him even.

"I don't know, Steven. I just don't know."

For a moment he wanted to poke and prod the spirit back into her, fury was better than frost, and he was so exhausted. But he couldn't, wouldn't. He didn't want her to have to yell any more.

Still, he wanted to know.

"Why did you lie to me?"

He held his breath as her shoulders stiffened. He thanked God when she exhaled heavily and they released.

"I was desperate. I needed you to leave. I needed to push all the feelings off of me. I was so desperate."

"I've never felt so predictable."

"Oh, come on, Steven. You define love and passion and relationships in physical terms. And you've always been terrified of Michael. Of course I could predict that going there, saying that I'd been with him, would hurt you, push you to run. Anyone would have predicted that. Sometimes in trying to be so solid, you just become more transparent."

"Did you think Michael would back up your story?"

"No. Maybe. I wasn't as concerened with what would happen after you left. But I guess part of me knew that as much as Michael lies about sex, he wouldn't lie about this, to you."

"He said you couldn't. That he tried, but you couldn't. Because you loved me."

Jackie was surprised that they could talk about this, so quietly, when they couldn't contain the screams so many hours before. But she wasn't even crying when she whispered, "Yes."

"Do you wish now that you could have?"

He waited, ignoring the rumbling and twisting of his nervous, hungry stomach, searching her profile for an answer.

She was silent so long he almost thought she was ignoring him, or that she hadn't heard him.

Finally, there was a shaking of her head, so slight he thought he might have imagined it. "No. I just wish you could have waited to find out. That was the point of no return, Steven. And Michael wasn't even in the room. He got the billing and the blame, but he wasn't there. It was just you and me. And then it was just me. And that's the point when I start wishing all sorts of things were different."

He was surprised that it didn't sound like an accusation. He was surprised that his mouth didn't fly open to defend himself, to blame everyone else, to hurt her for saying the the truth. He nodded. Accepting his guilt out in the open, for once in his entire life. He was most surprised at how good that felt. Like a second chance. Like starting over.

* * *

**Can You Hate Me More?**

"Do you ever wonder how much more there is, how much more you can take? What your limit is?"

She watched him look at her, waiting for her to go on.

"Like you hurt so much you feel like you can't breathe...and then you wonder, how much hurt until I really can't. How much hurt until I just cease to be? How much hurt can I take before everything stops and it's all over? Do you ever wonder if you can always hurt a little bit more? Even when you think you're at your absolute limit?"

He still just looked at her. Intently. Curious.

"I often wonder when it stops being metaphors, and hyperboles...and then I'm always scared I'll find out." A slow breath. "What an awful way to die."

The tense silence had become as much a part of the conversation as either one of them. And Hyde caught himself thinking it was like sitting on a glacier...just getting used to the cold.

"I try not to think about hurting. Thinking about it would mean that I accept it. I've never wanted to accept that I was hurting. I was always afraid then that would be all I'd ever do."

"Where was this honesty when we were together?"

"Bound and gagged in the basement."

She knew that was truer than he meant it to be.

"I don't think there's a limit though. You can always do more. Love or Hate. Hurt someone, Be hurt."

His voice was quiet. Her voice was near silent. "I don't know if I could have loved you any more."

"Could you hate me any more?"

"I don't know about that either."

* * *

**Can You Hear What I Can't Say? **

"You know what I've always wondered?"

He'd been quiet a while, so she seemed almost startled at his voice...like she'd forgotten he was there...as if she could.

She was laying down again, staring at the ceiling. He inched his way back so that he could rest his head back against the wall. There bodies were closer now. He could have lifted his arm and touched her, with little effort. But yet the idea, flashing only for a second in his mind, was exhausting. So instead he had decided to speak, and now she was looking at him, telling him to continue.

"I've always wondered why you always wanted things said aloud. Why, after Kelso lied so much, and your parents made so many empty promises, why did you want me to say everything?"

She snorted. And he was surprised that she didn't care that she'd made such an "unflattering" sound.

"And I always wondered why you couldn't just say it. Feeling it is the scary part...if you can get through that, saying it should be easy. And I'd at least always assumed that you'd felt it."

"I did."

Her smile was ironic, but genuine. "Good to know."

* * *

**Can You Still Love Me?**

She had rearranged herself. Head resting on a pile of sheets, still tangled from a night of restless sleeping, on the bottom edge of her bed, her feet propped against the wall. She ran her toes along the raised texture of the plaster, letting the ridges tickle the thin flesh of her feet.

He'd finally given in, letting his neck take a much needed break, resting his head on one of her lace-covered perfumed pillows, his arm tucked underneath it. She hadn't fought him on this, and he'd been thankful. He was so tired.

"I'd always thought it was a done deal. Loving someone. Once you were in, you were in. End of story. Forever and Ever. I didn't believe you could fall out of love, only in." She sounded tired too."Then again, I also believed in unicorns until I was seventeen. I suppose I'm just gullible."

He winced at that. Her falling out of love with him, implied, said out loud and left in the open. He didn't like it. "Me too."

She lifted her head then, to look at him. She seemed surprised. "Sometimes I didn't think you believed in love. Not really. Let alone in Love Everlasting."

"I did. I think I still do. Maybe I think other things become stronger, more apparent than love. But I don't think I am ready to believe it ends and disappears." He caught her eyes and didn't let them go. He wanted her to see how sad they were, how sorry, how honest.

She looked scared, and on the verge of tears, so he looked away and let her go.

* * *

**Can You Be All I Need?**

"I'm hungry."

"You got anything in the fridge? I'll make you something."

She started to smile, but it never made it all the way across. She slowly pushed herself off the bed, and made her way across the room and opened the door. She paused a moment, waiting for him to follow.

They found three friends sleeping in various uncomfortable looking positions around the living room. Keeping guard.

Jackie smiled that they'd all been there. She smiled again that they had stayed...

The late afternoon sun was mostly blocked out by the drawn curtains, and she and Hyde took extra care to walk quietly.

Making their way to kitchen, Jackie turned on the light and began looking through cabinets and the pantry.

After putting together enough to feed them both, they took to cooking, silent and side by side. After tidying up a bit, they carried their bowls and plates, two cans of coke stuck in Hyde's pockets, back to her room. Softly shutting the door behind them, they sat on her floor, as ready as they could be for an awkward picnic between two ex-lovers.

For a few minutes, long minutes, the only sound was the slurping of soup, the crunches nibbling a sandwich, the faint snoring of Michael Kelso drifting under the door.

With the finality of the clink of the spoon against the empty bottom of his bowl, Hyde set aside his dishes and looked at the woman across from him. "Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yes. Thanks. It was good." She put her spoon in the bowl without a sound.

He smirked a little, mumbling a modest 'Thank you.'

He looked away. She looked away.

They snuck glances back at each other, and smiled when they were caught.

He thought it was funny how tense they felt over the fact they didn't feel more tense. If that made any sense.

It probably didn't.

He was pulled out of his head by a more charactersitic Jackie-tone -- bossy."Look, Steven, I would like to say I'm over it. All of it. The anger, the hurt, the longing...everything. But say, that I could get passed all of that. Back to the point when what mattered most was that I loved you. How lonely would I be there? How long would I be there, before you hurt me again? We were always so different. And all we have established so far today is that we didn't understand a lot of things about each other, that we didn't clear the air where we should have. It's like we've spent our entire relationship missing each other. I don't know if you could ever give me what I need from you, Steven. And I don't know if you'll ever let me in on what you need so that I could try and give it to you. But somehow, sitting here, just sitting here with you, for hours without yelling, without crying, and I'm back to wondering if it'd be worth it to try. And that's a dangerous thought for me. I thought I was finally finished with that."

All Hyde could do was blink. And having taken his shades off somewhere in the haze, he couldn't hide his surprise, his hopefulness, his fear at her sudden and revealing honesty.

And as she continued to look at him, intently searching, he realized she had asked him questions. Would she be alone? Would he hurt her again? She doubted he could give her what she wanted, needed.

This wasn't the first time she'd ever asked. This maybe the first time she'd get a straight answer.

"I don't know if I could give you all you need. I know I could give you all I have. And regardless of the circumstances, Jackie, I'm done hurting you on purpose. That's the best I can do."

Her face changed. For a moment he was afraid it was disappointment. Then he realized it was relief.

* * *

**Can You See Me?**

It hadn't been silent in a while, but the talk had been about anything and everything but the two of them. The sun was gone and it was night again, and Hyde felt his fiftieth wind. He was still tired, but he was so relieved to still have this, to have her sitting, giggling, right beside him, though still carefully not touching, that his eyes were open wide and he wouldn't give in to sleep.

Jackie wouldn't let him turn the lights on. She said her eyes couldn't take it. She sat beside him on her floor, their backs against the bed, the blinds over the window allowing thin strips of light from the street lamps to leave stripes across the carpet, their arms and their legs.

She was giggling, over some silly story of a misadventure they'd had what felt like fifty years ago in their adolescence. But when her eyes opened and glanced at him, he was staring at her and it was like magnets pulling at metal. Forceful and attractive and she'd wondered why he'd never looked at her like that before. Like he couldn't be held responsible for what he'd do if he was denied her presence. Like he wanted to take her in, every last drop of her.

Sure he'd looked at her with lust, with raw passionate need. He'd wanted her before, and she'd seen it in his eyes. He'd looked at her with fondness, maybe even love. But never before was it this persistent. This innocent and basic and vulnerable.

He was looking at her like she'd always looked at him, when they were alone,when he'd let her love him.

"Steven." She wasn't sure why it came out a whisper. She was even less sure as to why his voice seemed to hitch and break a bit when he spoke.

"I couldn't stop Bud from leaving. Or my Mom. Or even Eric, when he ran to Africa for reasons I'll never know. They all, in varying degrees of severity of course, abandoned me. And like it or not, that's done a lot to define who I am. Being abandoned. And I thought you were on that list too, Jackie. But that's not the case. I could have stopped you. I could have even gotten you to come back. And to be honest, it was just as much about me running, me pushing you away, as it was you leaving, for Chicago, for the Carribean with your mom. You didn't abandon me. I let you go."

All Jackie could do was take shaky breath after shaky breath.

"I don't want to let you go."

His eyes were like electric sparks in the darkness, and Jackie reveled their gaze.

* * *

**Can You Feel The Beat?**

He never wavered in his stare, not even when she put her hand on his cheek to wipe his tear away. She'd never thought she'd see Steven Hyde so desperate, so crazy, all for her. Part of her thought she must have been dreaming. Part of her knew this was better than anything she could have ever imagined.

Her thumb brushed across his lips, dry, rough. Her hand slid down his chin, and she didn't flinch as the beginnings of a beard scratched at her palm. She continued to his chest. To the place right over his heart.

Steven Hyde had the shakes. He hadn't been brave enough to entertain the thought he'd ever get to feel her touch again. At least not one this gentle, this full.

He watched her force breath in and out, making it match is own. She placed her other hand on her own chest. She wanted to know their heart beats were the same.

He was afraid of breaking whatever was happening, of shattering it and being left with awkward regrets and anger all over again. He almost was afraid to breathe.

"All I ever wanted was to know it wasn't just me. That it wasn't a relationship that I built, that I nurtured, all on my own, and as a result didn't really exist outside my head. All you ever had to do, was meet me halfway. And I could have forgiven you anything." She began leaning in, so slow, eyes never leaving his. And then she stopped, leaving a small distance between them, and let her eyes slowly shut. "I can forgive you anything."

A moments hesitation was all he needed to be sure that it all was real. And then he seized her lips.

* * *

**Can You Taste It?**

It was a long, slow kiss. It said more than they ever could with words. It was all said so softly, and yet it echoed in their ears. She could feel that he was sorry, that he loved her. He could feel that that was enough. And when they could feel the dampness on their cheeks, and taste the salt of tears, at least they both knew that this time they were happy ones.


End file.
